Chapter 253
Chapter 253
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Translator: uly
Chapter: 253
Chapter Title: How to Survive as the Second Son of a Magical Noble Family
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[ROOOAR—!]
Thunderous applause and cheers erupted. Confetti rained down from the sky. Flowers tossed from the audience showered the stage endlessly.
I scanned my surroundings, feeling a twisting in my gut.
I never wanted to see these seats filled with so many people again. A win was a win, and victory had never been my concern to begin with—except for that one goal.
Without the massive terrorist attack, I might have been enjoying this right now. In fact, ever since rewinding time and reliving the magic lamp terror from the start, I'd been a bit unhinged, so the cheers and thrill of battle had felt somewhat enjoyable... but once Farnese—no, Caetani—stepped in, it all got complicated.
It had to be because of all his cryptic nonsense. I'd heard plenty of atheists dismiss him as some deviant force, so that was nothing new. But what was this Christian spouting Buddhist karma at me? What connected him to Narke, and them to me? Not knowing left my head in a tangle.
And then there was this.
He'd upended my old memories, reviving a past no one else remembered—a me with no way back, not even a clue if there was one. And as if that wasn't enough, he'd dragged someone I could never see again right in front of me.
'...Right. That's how it was.'
I'd figured out why I felt both elated and hollow.
No solution in sight. At least not while stuck here. Now that I knew the cause, it was time to rein in my emotions and do what I had to. I pulled a handkerchief from my pocket and wiped the blood from my nose.
The moment I tried to stand, Gabriele grabbed my hand.
"......"
Gabriele looked at me and slowly wiped the blood from my face and clothes.
The divine power I felt through his hand had steadied again. His core was recovering fast, channeling holy power through his body once more. He couldn't move on his own power yet, but pulling off this much after a brief rest showed his recovery wasn't ordinary.
With trembling hands, Gabriele traced the sign of the cross.
"...In nomine Patris et Filii et Spiritus Sancti. Amen."
Then he pulled my left hand to his lips and kissed the back of it.
Classic behavior for a Catholic of this era. Usually done for the Pope or cardinals and such high clergy. But something felt off. If he'd known I was a cardinal and meant this as a greeting, he'd have done it the moment we met. If anything, a devout believer like him would have sneered at an atheist cardinal.
This sudden gesture meant either his mind had changed or there was some reason I didn't know.
I stared at him, waiting for an explanation. He gazed up at the sky and murmured faintly. The amplification artifacts pinned to our clothes had stopped working.
—Verily, verily, I say unto you. He that heareth my word, and believeth on him that sent me, hath everlasting life, and shall not come into condemnation; but is passed from death unto life.
"......"
—Verily, verily, I say unto you...
I waited for what came next, but instead, he channeled holy power into me. Light bloomed from the hand holding mine.
"...!"
I furrowed my brow.
Something like healing magic seeped into my veins. It bolstered my core's power.
Leo's mana clashed with his holy power, but the healing soon cleared my head. My drained stamina started returning.
Before I could ask why, he spoke first.
"I now know what you will do."
"......"
He knew what I'd do now. I looked at him silently.
The announcer appeared in the aisle below the stage. He'd be up soon. The Magic Ministry director, who'd messaged me mid-tournament, hurried after him.
An announcement said medical teams were coming our way, but I wasn't in a state to pay close attention.
Gabriele cast a soundproofing spell and spoke.
"Now that I've confirmed it, I fully understand. You and I are different, yet in the same boat—and yet we'll end up very differently. But we were undoubtedly made this way the same."
"...What are you suddenly talking about? I don't get it."
I got that we were different, sure. Same boat? And made the same way?
"Made the same way. What does 'made this way' mean?"
"You'll fully understand my words one day."
"I want to know now."
"Don't you already have something in mind to do?"
"......"
"You probably know already, but my name is Gabriele Caetani. Remember it. It will help you on the day of tribulation."
He could help me on the day of tribulation.
I just stared at him, his speech straight out of Luther's German Bible translation. Was it because Imperial was a foreign tongue to him, or was that just his style? As if reading my thoughts, he chuckled briefly and gently pushed my hand away.
"Go now, brother."
"......"
No clue why he was suddenly acting like this.
What mattered was this: as in my first hallucination, he'd come to test me, and somehow I'd passed. He intended to help if trouble came my way. Calling it "tribulation" meant it wouldn't be minor. I hoped it never came.
I stood slowly and looked around. One of the medical team approaching from below waved to get my attention. The cross stamped on their hands looked slightly shorter. The top was gone, making it look like a T.
The 600,000 people's dawn now had 20 minutes left. Maybe 19.
Mid-match, while I was lost in old flesh memories, the Magic Ministry director's message arrived. Three book ciphers had come to their office, all decoded. They begged me to forfeit and come immediately.
'After ignoring me like that.'
The message came about 5 to 7 minutes after my match with Gabriele started.
That made it roughly 65 minutes after the crosses first appeared—when the book ciphers showed up. This time privately.
Compared to 40 minutes after the curse in the first timeline, it was 25 minutes later, forcing me to fight these foreign tournament first-timers for that long. The director hadn't listened to my request, so maybe I should blame him.
"Pleased to meet you, Excellency Ascanien. Mind if I take your hand for a moment?"
The medical team's voice snapped me from my thoughts.
Anyway, the provisional government wouldn't have met that academy magic professor. It was fake.
And upon hearing the third book cipher—"I gave the answer to over 100 people"—the director must have recalled my words about the phosphorus cipher—Sagt es allen, tell it to everyone—and the "answer."
My request: Could they give me just one uninterrupted minute in the sound booth?
No smile came; I just looked down at the hand the medic held. Gabriele Caetani was now being led offstage by another team.
'Then why I inferred the disassembly spell shared the curse's mechanism.'
Time to rethink it.
Let's trace back slowly.
Three days ago—no, that evening—I'd talked with Leo like this.
* * *
Top floor of the Bavarian Crown Prince's Palace.
We sat on the balcony behind the hall with drinks. Pie's influence reached even here. I remembered gaping at the stone pagoda in one corner.
I lounged in a white wooden chair, watching the twilight over Bavaria's vast forests and cityscape. Spatial magic kept outsiders from seeing us, so no worries about my hospital escape.
With a serious face, I looked at Leo seated across the table and my on-the-rocks glass.
"The curse and disassembly spells work the same way."
"......"
"So to lift the curse, we need to 'let' those afflicted hear the incantation to trigger the disassembly. Up to here, it's obvious—like 'tighten a screw right to loosen it left.' Right?"
Leo replied skeptically.
"Somewhat. Over half the spells out there undo that way. But we can't be sure."
"Listen. I set a hypothesis first and found answers. Remember what I say, then rethink from the start after the conclusion. You'll get why I claim this."
"You weren't sure from the beginning either."
I nodded and sipped.
The cherry finish was bitter. Whiskey—not my taste—but no choice.
"Let's start. The real issue: I think the trigger for disassembly is the 'answer' the terrorists claim they showed to over 100 people."
"What makes you think that?"
Good question. [The terrorists' answer is the disassembly trigger.] What backed that inference?
The terrorists kindly give the curse's solution too? And it really lifts if guessed right? Sounded idiotic.
Yet I believed the "answer" was the trigger.
Why?
"Leo. Before rewinding, the Magic Director asked why the terrorists didn't kill us instantly."
"Yeah."
"I said 'because they want something else.' Remember?"
"...Yeah."
"Human lives are just collateral for their real goal. Keep that in mind and rethink. The terrorists cursed this many people and kindly hinted at the 'answer'—not for fun or to mess with us."
Leo propped his chin, tapping the table with his other hand. Unusual for the prince; he seemed impatient.
"Of course not, Lucas."
"Right. Let's dig in slowly. Why hint 'we already showed the answer'? One: They want everyone freed and peace restored."
Leo released his chin, sipped, and chuckled lightly.
"Why curse then? Hoping for solidarity in crisis?"
"So no answer there. Next: Two, they want someone who can't stand watching to solve it. Three: No other possibilities."
Leo narrowed his eyes. He knew what came next. I sipped to avoid his sharp gaze and set my glass down.
"Between one and two, two's rational."
"......"
"Then again: Why want it solved? What comes from solving? Who do they want solving it? No interruptions—listen."
"Won't. Go on."
I listed the most rational possibilities in order.
Fingers extended, I said,
"One: The 'answer' is another trigger."
"Hm, so they rigged something in that 'answer.'"
"Yeah. Reciting it triggers another spell like the curse."
"That's some advanced tech... headache."
Leo unusually ruffled his hair. Frustrating, understandably—their tech outpaced ours.
"Two: Who they want solving. They said they showed it to 'over 100 people.' Any of those 100 saying it works."
"But practically targets one person. Even if you deny, you'll think it's you. Right?"
I nodded.
Leo narrowed his eyes expectantly, clasping hands.
"You wanna know why. Terrorists showed the answer."
"Yeah."
"And over 100 saw it. That's a hint itself. 'Over 100'—the masses saw it... So it was in a spot people could glimpse without close reading or decoding. All terror methods so far consistent. Whether multiple copycats or one obsessive cipher nut, we've 'seen' countless ciphers."
"Yeah. Book ciphers, phosphorus matches."
"And five unsolved ones left."
Rummaging my jacket, I realized no pen and beckoned Leo. He pulled a fountain pen from his jacket lining, bemused.
I grabbed a crisp napkin from the holder on the table—rustling loudly—and wrote:
[Audienz dubioses schockiertes]
[Bocuse dasitzende risikoscheu]
[Cookie diesseits zuschraubend]
[Diözesan dubiose tückischeres]
[Auszurichtendes Cookies Diebs]
"......"
"We haven't cracked these. How long we been stumped?"
"A while."
"I tried interpreting as coherent sentences. Like 'Auszurichtendes Cookies Diebs' as 'align cookie thief.'"
"Didn't you try Caesar cipher too?"
"Yeah, all sorts. Wrong."
Leo stroked his chin, eyeing me. I leaned in earnestly.
"I overthought. These aren't hard ciphers."
"What makes you sure."
"First, all prior phosphorus and book ciphers were easy. You won't buy that? Me neither—continuing."
"Go on...."
I turned the napkin to him, pointing letters.
"These five sentences share traits. All three-word, 27 letters. Same alphabet composition—if we treat umlauts Ö/Ü as plain O/U."
"...!"
The latter two—'all 27 letters' and 'same alphabets'—reveal much.
'What it implies.'
Seeing Leo's face, I pocketed one hand and sipped, tilting back.
"Got it, huh."
"......"
Leo nodded gravely.
Yes.
These five are simple anagram phrases converging to one sentence. Terrorists kindly gave five versions.
'Problem: when to rearrange.'
A month and a half? Solved by now. Two days? Not enough. Manual combos would eat prep time. Couldn't allow that.
"Instead of brute-forcing, I found a clue easing combos. You guess what by now."
Leo's face stiffened. He knew the core word. Time for next topic.
"Now you see why I say I must announce it, why 'tell everyone' undoes the curse."
"First yes, second still weak."
"Good. Quick."
I sipped, grinned.
"Exactly halfway. Now the rest."
"......"
Leo pressed lips, staring. I shrugged.
"Why the grim face."
"Never grim."
"Fine. Tomorrow I tell Elias and Narke."
"......"
Leo stared silently. Face of facing unwanted duty, hoping no harm. I'd seen it plenty.
"Nothing we can't handle between us."
I offered fist.
Leo eyed it grumpily, softened, bumped lightly.
I grinned.
"Let's do this."
"...Yeah."
No backing out now. Seriously to earnest Leo, I said,
"Alright, Leo. Need your help from here."
* * *
Now, I kinda want to go back.
That evening felt so relaxed. Knowing the end loomed again yet having lived it left us both languid. Those uneventful minutes and seconds felt eternal—yet here I was, facing a new end.
But this end led to the terror's finale. Not the last page, maybe.
Medics chanted healing spells and restoratives on my hand and back. Their skill seemed below Gabriele's, but I stayed still, thinking.
'What I told Leo then.'
'I found a clue easing combos.'
Yes. Fortunately, I'd gathered pieces. Time to reassemble.
Clue 1.
Richthofen visited pre-death, claiming he knew the curse spell. Why did he, of all people—a mere Catacomb high schooler, no magic expert—spot it fast when the Imperial government couldn't, and it resisted external attacks?
As I thought then: reeks of over-familiarity.
Yes. Double-space magic atop the curse.
Won't break without threshold mana. Power limitless, survived experiments—likely layered bidirectional, inner-outer, blocking any disassembly.
Stealing Catacomb tech then refining with their idea? Brilliant concept. Incantation-only deployment? Impressive.
Clue 2.
Past timeline's sound director and this one's athlete both hit pre-set mind control forgetting Revelation 7:10. Means mind control preset like curse; 'holy power mage capable of it' on their side.
Many possibilities, but per setter's intent.
Clue 3.
Pleroma dioceses often freelance for gain. We saw it early this year.
Clue 4.
Five ciphers arrived: me—my bouquet—Catacomb wall, Haike's family estate front.
What connects these three? Intersection clear: one place.
From setter's view only, we're there. Combine four clues.
Some blind spots need explaining, but opening ceremony logic ends here. I solved the five using these past two days.
On Leo's question—does shouting 'answer' really lift?—some explanation left, but no room for other outcomes.
I chuckled lightly, exhaling.
'Long road.'
This is why I hate Pleroma.
No—bishops.
Even the transparent Imperial government seems lovable. I even know Abraham's plans. Though he knows I do.
Bishops never slip; prove their seats earned, wielding excellence fully.
Anyway.
My turn.
Treatment done, I turned slowly. A rose petal clung to my foot.
I approached the announcer waiting belowstage.
He beamed, coming to meet me.
"Pleased to meet you, Excellency Lucas Ascanien. You've won the international friendly tournament at the 1st Pentaron Opening Ceremony! Amid the rushed adjustments and chaos, you gave a splendid match."
[ROOOAR—!!]
Crowd roared. I smiled faintly at him. Confetti burst again, scattering.
"See this heat? A word on your thoughts?"
"Thoughts."
Feeling amplification on the air ahead, I spoke.
My eyes went to Eschet team, then back to broadcast cameras. Stadium fell silent, everyone awaiting my words.
"I hear you're looking for someone."
* * *
"Where you going?"
Yulia grabbed Elias leaving the stadium. He turned stiffly, glanced back at stage.
"Stomachache. Gonna see a big one, kids~"
"......"
Yulia stared silently. Knew it was an excuse.
Haike, oblivious, flushed with victory excitement:
"Come quick. Lucas won—we're drinking."
"Yea~"
Elias laughed at Haike, exited.
Hope he hurries back. But he won't. Elias's face hardened more.
Same time, venue Italian restaurant.
Silence inside.
"......"
[Someone...?]
Announcer smiled awkwardly, flustered.
"Someone?"
"What?"
Whispers in quiet.
Out-of-left-field remark halted forks; screens watched. Most too immersed in match for casual eating.
Leo calmly eyed newspaper. Palm lights around shortening. Curse active; ~15 minutes life left. His heartbeat sounded like countdown.
[Could you elaborate on who?]
[Or maybe I should just say the answer as I saw it.]
"What? Wasn't this for comments?"
"Yeah."
Someone raised fingers to lips: quiet, gotta hear.
[......]
Narke's grip tightened on screen watch. Leo held breath unwittingly.
Onscreen Lucas's lips moved.
[I'll say it once—listen well.]
[Once....]
['The Diocese of Osnabrück is looking for you'!]
KABOOM—!
Pitch-black smoke flooded stadium. Screen went full black; trapped-in-storm winds howled.
"Huh?!"
"W-What?!"
"Scared me—what's this?!"
Leo eyed screen coldly, recalling.
Die Diözese Osnabrück sucht Sie. The Diocese of Osnabrück is looking for you.
Early year: Lucas's bouquet, Catacomb wall, Ainsidel estate ciphers decoded.
[You must keep promises.]
Black screen, gale—clear voice rang. Explosion-wind roared again. Shocked screams beyond screen.
Narke, frozen, scanning, nodded Leo toward crowd.
"Leo."
"......"
Leo turned slowly.
Myriad palm lights flickered out everywhere.
Heart pounded wildly. Hands now empty. Utterly empty. Felt like misseeing, like a dream. Ground shook? People checked floors, exclaiming.
'...Over.'
Done. Lucas right. All judgments spot-on. Now, with eyes on him post-answer-shout, yet some unheard—he'd apply Richthofen's prepped disassembly to each.
Then, per his plan.
This damn terror ended. Unbelievable; vision shook.
Yet for us, new start.
Leo wiped face, steadied breath, stood.
Hand to Narke, he said,
"Let's go."